


ansare

by matskreider



Series: transcendence [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Gay Sex, M/M, Still Hockey Players
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matskreider/pseuds/matskreider
Summary: Jamie is the apex demon between the two of them, but Tyler's designed to catch whatever and whoever he chooses. Their tension has been building since Tyler's trade, but everything comes to a head after Bortuzzo.





	ansare

**Author's Note:**

> this is in the same universe as [sempi compen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14261808/chapters/32892954), but it takes place with the stars rather than the rangers, and takes place around [this game](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xztmckCYT4o). for reference as to what the benn brothers look like, [this](https://pre00.deviantart.net/7b9c/th/pre/i/2016/307/b/3/inktober_29___leshen__the_witcher__by_sofialeoart-dan640v.jpg) and [this](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/32/0e/be/320ebe9cfb5b30b89f641921fc9dd70d.jpg) are good examples. 
> 
> (you should read sempi compen for a better understanding of how this universe works but the general gist is that monsters and demons can play hockey, but the 2012 lockout was made more complex with their existence. since this takes place after that, that's the addition to the CBA that Jamie's talking about later on)
> 
> was there already tension between jamie and tyler **_??_** honestly, knowing them, yes, and i didn't feel like writing it all out, so, have this

Hockey is the ultimate catharsis for anger. Some, like Tyler and Eaves, burn away the aggression with physical exertion. Bag skates at practice, rushing for breakaways, cutting off the opposing offence keeps them moving and active. If practice and games don’t finish them off, they find other ways to tire themselves out.

The gym is a personal favorite of Tyler’s, as he sets the treadmill for faster than a challenge for even the fittest player, and runs. Legs and arms a blur, sharpened teeth clenched between parted lips, and eyes that reflect the burning struggle within. Losing does him in the most, but general frustration guides him between those victory green doors just as often.

Eaves, however, very few understand. He just sort of…disappears. Which isn’t the strange part, after all, he’s invisible when he doesn’t have to maintain a human form. But how he exerts himself, burns away the anger, no one understands. No one thinks to ask.

The human players, of course, take the more socially accepted ways of handling defeat. Some join Tyler in the gym, but running next to a demon who keeps pace with the treadmill on 20 and hardly out of breath tends to make them nervous.

Drinking only goes so far – after all, they have to be professional.

Tattoos work for some. The burning sensation of the needle keeping them focused in the here and now, benediction injected with each dot of ink, until the physical pain replaces the emotional.

Clarity, really. They’re all searching for clarity.

But there are some who use hockey as a source for physical altercations.

Antoine, despite being a human, fights like a man possessed. He’s a trigger happy player, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice, and unafraid of consequences. Even demons and monsters have to actually consider him a threat if he decides they’re the target of the game. But he’s also one of those who can laugh it off later, who’s made the fighting so much a part of his M.O. that no one questions it.

It’s the games that he doesn’t fight that people get concerned. It seems that peace is a reward he’s not meant to have. That doesn’t mean he’s looking for peace, though. There are men like that, men who are human and have always been human, but if given the opportunity, can show just how feral they can become. Displays like that both awe and intimidate, and that, Jamie thinks, is the goal.

Jamie himself is a combination of the two. He remembers being younger and taking out the internalized anger – at himself, at his body, at the world around them – on Jordie, of all people. The tooth that came out of his mouth was not a surprise, when they were younger. Jamie had been aiming for hurt, aiming for blood. As he got older, got better at hockey and baseball, before shifting to devoting himself to strictly hockey – baseball wasn’t entirely open to the idea of demons playing, even though lately MLB had gotten more accepting – the physical activity had been enough to settle him.

Though, leshy’s are strictly territorial, and having to compete with his brother for space and attention led to an inner conflict that still exists. To default to his older brother was the norm, though he’d been actively fighting that since he was little. When Jamie made it to the NHL ahead of Jordie, their relationship had actually gotten better. Physical distance, while still maintaining common interests, was enough to settle the territorial instincts raging within. Then Jordie joined the Stars, and that sent Jamie into a bit of a tail spin. He’d finally made a name for himself, and his brother once more was going to show him up.

But that didn’t happen. Jamie got the captaincy, and with that came mandated respect from his teammates. Jamie became the fan favorite. And Jamie was the one to accept the role of teaching that messed up minor demon from Boston a thing or two about self respect and control.

(Though it wasn’t Tyler’s fault, Jamie later came to realize. It was circumstantial situations that piled atop one another until it all went to shit. One of those, “No one is actually at fault, here” moments. Didn’t stop Jamie from feeling a bit more aggressive the first game against Boston back in 2013.)

But the anger still sits. Not just at Jordie, now. They’ve more or less worked that one out. No, this is more about the daily struggles of captaining a team performing as lowly as theirs. Knowing that they have the skills and capabilities to do great things, but watching nothing connecting on the ice. The injuries, the surgeries, the missed games for the first time in his career – not exactly a shining mark on his transcript.

Pushing himself to skate faster, hit harder, shoot better, are only emotional obstacles. They only go so far.

Sometimes, when the Texas moon casts the streets of Dallas into silver and gold tinted light, he grabs his brother, and they return home. Jamie’s never quite sure if it’s a place on Earth, or a place where their kind comes from, but it feels _right._ A sense of belonging he never quite feels, not even in his own locker room.

Shedding the weight of the C on his chest, of the human skin stretched tight over bone, exposing the buzzing aggression burning below the surface, he finally can let himself go. He can let himself breathe, an empty ribcage expanding and contracting as air huffs through a picked clean nasal cavity.

Jordie looks much the same, standing across from him, equal in height and almost in weight. His rack is shaded red, his lower jaw darkened with streaks of the same hue. Marks from a hunt, transferred to his human form, Jamie knows.

The rest of the world just assumes he’s a ginger.

Tendon-less jaws stretch open, emitting a hissing growl that startles the crows from the trees, a murder taking to the sky above. They step towards each other, lowering their heads, posturing in a way that has nothing on the line except emotional catharsis.

Their bones lock when they connect, each trying to get an advantage against the other. Claws are rarely used – these are not kitten claws, they cannot be retracted. Antlers locked, elongated jaws knocking into one another when the tension gives and one pulls back, leaving the other leaning forward a shade too much.

They circle each other.

Sometimes, this forest has snow on the ground. Sometimes, the ground is wet, and almost seems to breathe. Sometimes, the ground is warm, which makes no sense, because there is no sun.

Most of this makes no sense. He tries not to question it.

And that was how his life went. After every tough loss, if a grueling practice didn’t do it for him, he would fight his brother. Jordie initiated a few altercations like this, though he’s the more levelheaded of the two. Jamie thinks sometimes that this is a personal sacrifice on his brother’s part.

Yet another thing he owed him.

Post fights, though, it was always the same. Exhausted, bones panting and quivering with every breath, one of the two would bring them back home. Two bony demons dressed in rags materializing in the living room of an apartment in central Dallas. Jamie would roll onto his side, antlers scraping along the wood floor, making a sound straight out of a horror movie. Just to be a little shit, he’d repeat the motion, gouging the floor bit by bit until Jordie reached a hand out and smacked him, talons clattering against his sternum.

Too tired to playfully wrestle it away, Jamie would take the warning for what it was, and settle. For once, everything was okay. The buzzing aggression had fled, leaving him satisfied.

It was enough.

Well, it would have been, before Tyler got involved.

* * *

The lesser demon stayed in human form easier than most others, simply because he didn’t have much else to change. Blunting his teeth and ears, and dulling his eyes to a more human hue were the extent of his changes.

He was too damn tempting, but then again, that was his purpose. Demons representing lust, or greed, or pride and vanity often enjoyed public spectacle and showing off their body. Tyler – and Sharpy, to a slightly lesser degree – followed these patterns, more or less to a “t.”

Normally, they kept it contained, as removing the human guise allowed their full set of powers loose, including glamour to encourage victims to come closer, only to meet their demise between soft touches and plush lips.

Purely predatory.

It’s not a display that they use all that often. Especially since the NHL had had to crack down on what was or wasn’t allowed during games, as far as powers went. Blatant shifting was a big no-no, for privacy as well as practicality reasons. But for those who didn’t risk destroying their gear with their change, the rules were a little bit more “don’t get caught.”

Jamie mulls this over while he watches Tyler dress for the game. As per usual, he’s not wearing a shirt beneath his pads, and a mouth guard never sits between his teeth. (Tyler’s made the point of saying that he just doesn’t like it, that it feels like he’s choking, but Jamie knows its because teeth like that don’t handle rubber well.)

They’re playing St. Louis. There’s barely three minutes left in the first period, both clubs scoreless. Jamie’s got Tyler at center and Sharpy on the left, his brother and Joki on D, and Kari in net. Blues overturn it at center, and it’s a race back into the Stars zone. Jamie watches as Jordie takes a cheap hooking from Upshall, yanking him backwards and costing the forward his stick. Of course the refs catch it, but what they don’t catch is Bortuzzo skating up alongside him.

Jamie’s aware, of course he is, and he chews on his mouth guard as he intends to skate back to center ice – before the butt of Bortuzzo’s stick catches him in the diaphragm. The pain doubles him over, and from there, it’s just an eruption of tension.

He heard Tyler talking to Jordie immediately after the whistle was blown, but now all he hears is that playful lilting voice covered up by a growl so vicious it almost prompts him to respond with his own placating call. But he knows it’s not for him. That was all for Bortuzzo, though, given that he’s just a human, odds are he can’t tell the finite notes in it like the other demons (and perhaps monsters) can.

Jordie immediately joins in, Jamie can hear that much, but the blood rushing through his ears starts to occupy his thoughts. Somehow he’d managed to make it to the door to the bench. Daddy’s glove comes down, gently touching his shoulder and guiding him over to where Dave starts talking to him, asking him questions.

He answers as best he can with the limited breaths he can draw in, but he’s distracted by the fight behind him. Sharpy’s managed to keep himself and his man from joining in the fight, Joki also remaining free from the altercation. But Jordie and Tyler are in the thick of it, and it’s only when Tyler’s pulled away that things start to finally settle down.

Jamie risks a look over his shoulder, blatantly not listening to what Dave is trying to say to him. Tyler’s teeth are bared, hissing as he yells back at Bortuzzo and the refs, intermittently checking his wrists. He’s not meant for impact fighting, he’s meant for speed and stealth and sensual destruction. He got in way over his head, in the name of Jamie’s honor.

He doesn’t know what to make of that, but satisfied that the fighting has stopped, he returns his focus to Dave. When he finally makes eye contact, he knows he doesn’t look all that well. But he’s determined to keep playing, even if they want him off the ice for the rest of the period and the first intermission.

He can do that.

(In the locker room, Tyler can’t seem to meet Jamie’s eyes, but Jamie feels his gaze on him the entire time.)

* * *

They win the game in a shut out, 3-0. A perfect revenge for the hit, especially since Jamie walked out of it with a goal and an assist. But he still has questions.

Jordie’s waiting for him in the hall outside of the locker room, but Jamie waves him off.

“You sure?” Jordie asks, hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I need to talk to Ty real quick,” Jamie replies, mirroring his brother’s posture. They stare at each other, eye to eye, postures saying just as much as the words.

“You’re making something out of nothing, Jame. You don’t think he knew what it looked like, do you?” Jordie asks, lifting his chin just a bit.

“Oh, because no one would ever want that with me, is that what you mean?” he retorts, eyes darkening.

“No, but don’t go seeing what you want out of the situation. It might not even mean that. He might have just been –”

“Been what, Jor? Been unnaturally aggressive? I don’t think he’s been looking human since warm ups. Don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed.”

“Maybe I haven’t noticed because I haven’t been looking. You know the humans call this ‘confirmation bias.’ Just so you know you’re not alone in seeing what you want when in reality there’s nothing there.”

Jamie is about to reply, but hears footsteps coming up from the tunnel. He recognizes the gait, and turns to his brother with a glare. “Go home, Jordie.”

Jordie backs away, hands up in a placating position, though his brow is furrowed. “I’m just saying. Don’t go getting yourself hurt for nothing.”

Then he’s gone, having turned and headed out to the parking lot.

A few moments later, Tyler comes out, talking under his breath to Sharpy, running a hand through his damp hair.

“…just bullshit, a total bullshit move. Such a dick thing to do.”  
“Like you weren’t itching for a chance to –” Patrick stops when he sees Jamie standing there, noticing before Tyler does. “Captain,” he intones, stopping in his step and facing him. “Feeling okay after that hit?”

“I’ve gotten worse.” Jamie remembered that Sharpy had been out there, but didn’t know if he’d broken any rules, just by proxy. “Did Coach have anything to say to you two?”

Tyler stays conspicuously silent, not meeting Jamie’s gaze, arms crossed in front of him.

“No, not yet. I’d imagine he’s waiting to see what management has to say, but as far as demons go, we’re hardly the first to change on ice. Nor the worst of the lot to do that,” Sharpy answers, shrugging. “Though, I think, given the circumstances, some exceptions will be made. At most, a fine. You’re just lucky Jordie didn’t change. We all could have been in some deep shit.”

“Fuckin’ would have _deserved_ a leshy gouging, if you ask me,” Tyler mutters, his words almost slurring together.

Patrick and Jamie share a look, and the shorter of the two takes a step back. “Catch you later then.” His parting words cleave open the last bit of intentional ignorance between Tyler and Jamie, and the captain looks down at his center as soon as the other winger is gone.

Jamie stands off the wall, heading down the hallway, tossing a “C’mon,” over his shoulder. There’s not much instruction given, but he knows Tyler will listen, especially since they carpooled to the game.

They walk to the car in silence, drive back to their neighborhood in silence, and when they pull up to Jamie’s place instead of Tyler’s, Jamie can see Tyler’s shoulders tense. He doesn’t seem fearful, for which Jamie is grateful. But there still is a reason that he chose to do this in his own territory.

 “Look, if this is to yell at me because of the fight…” Tyler begins, but trails off. Either he doesn’t know what he’s going to say, or doesn’t want to say it. The silence hangs in the air for a moment, before Jamie breaks it but unbuckling himself and opening the car door.

“Not out here.”

There’s a brief look of suspicious confusion on Tyler’s face, but he acquiesces the request. Once inside, the quiet lasts, even as Tyler brushes past Jamie and heads right to his fridge. If anyone else were to pull this sort of blatant disregard for property and ownership, Jamie would call them on it. But for Tyler, it seemed natural. A part of the relationship they had forged since he’d gotten traded to Dallas. This little cradle of heat and summer sun, year round, so different from frigid Boston that had molded and shaped this demon standing before him.

Jamie watches as Tyler rifles through the fridge, pulling out two Gatorades and setting them on the counter. He cracks open the red one, taking a long drag from it. It stains his upper lip red when he pulls the bottle away, and Jamie stares, captivated, as Tyler drags his tongue over the fruit punch remnants.

Those lips twist into a smirk while Jamie watches. The leshy blushes, wide brown eyes darting up to catch an amused pair of limerick green irises looking back. Yet another symptom of the change, though Jamie couldn’t quite clearly see if Tyler’s teeth remained human.

“Did you ever calm down after the first?” he asks, sliding onto an island stool and taking the unopened Gatorade for his own. He doesn’t drink it, just runs his fingers over the divots in the plastic, covered by the flimsy label.

“Not really,” the center answers, shrugging with an air of feigned nonchalance. “I mean, it helped, didn’t it? Won in a shut out. We needed those points.”

“This wasn’t about points,” Jamie argues, meeting Tyler’s gaze once again. This time, it holds a bit of a challenge. “You went after Bortuzzo, knowing it was him, before I even said anything. Hell, you went after him before Jordie did.”

“What, I’m not allowed to stick up for you anymore, is that it?”

“When it’s uncharacteristic, yes.” Jamie’s eyes narrow, his hands ceasing to play with the bottle. “Tyler, what was that really about? You never get into fights.”

The smaller of the two braces his hands on the counter, brazen and unafraid in a way he only ever is off the ice. “Because it was a cheap fucking shot. The play was over, and he thought he wouldn’t get called on it. I called him on it.”

“You also changed in front of a packed stadium, while in a scrum against a human player. Tyler, you’re lucky you didn’t get evicted from the game!”

There’s more at risk here than just being evicted from the game, they both know that. The CBA and lockout were still fresh in everyone’s minds, and it’s been less than two years in the aftermath. Tyler had faced some scrutiny based on his behavior in Boston – it was no secret that he’d been a case thrown around to test the types of rules being passed in the updated CBA – but Jamie thought that Dallas had calmed him somewhat. Or, at least, the consequences of his actions in Boston had calmed him somewhat.

And then he goes and does this shit.

“Those rules are bullshit too, and you know it. Don’t act like it’s not frustrating, not being able to cut loose. To do what you’re really capable of.” There’s a fire in Tyler’s eyes, the vibrant green thrumming with an energy that Jamie feels in his very core. It’s how he feels most nights, when he drives over to Jordie’s place and they fight until that flame is extinguished.

“Not all of us have the luxury of a subtle change,” he bites out in return. “I get it, I do. But you’ve got to control yourself. That type of shit won’t fly if it happens again, we’re lucky that it managed to pass as it is. Do you _want_ to cause another lock out?” It’s a low blow, but it has the desired effect; Tyler ducks his head and refuses to meet Jamie’s gaze.

“And you know…” Jamie continues, before he stops himself, not wanting to put thoughts in Tyler’s head. Not wanting to think about the possibility that he had read these intentions correctly. Not wanting to entertain the notion that the fight had been a sort of display for Jamie, had been an appeal to seduce him into believing that Tyler was a worthy mate. Leshy privileged strength and ferocity over most other attributes, which is why most leshy in the public eye remained single until retirement, when they could give into their more aggressive natures and secure the mate they wanted. It’s also why interkin relationships involving leshy were exceedingly rare. In the past 90 years, there had been no documented cases.

But demons like Tyler, like Sharpy, who solely existed to seduce their prey, often knew exactly what was going to work. A certain glamour, a way of talking, a style of dress, a manner of behavior; they were designed to engineer themselves to secure prey/a mate as effectively as possible.

Knowing that leshy were aggressive and territorial was common knowledge. But was the fight supposed to be indicative of that? Was this Tyler’s way of saying he wanted more from Jamie?

“I know what?” Tyler asks, his voice startling Jamie out of his thoughts. “That you deserved someone fighting for you? Because that goes without saying.” It’s clear in his words that he’s avoiding the topic, and Jamie’s not having it.

“No, Tyler. I…you have to know, what that looked like. To Jordie, to me…to Sharpy. To anyone else who knows demon cultures like ours.”

The silence hangs between them once more, icy cold and thick. Tyler won’t meet Jamie’s gaze, and the captain stands, making his way around the island. Tyler doesn’t move from his position, letting Jamie approach, looking down through the open mouth of his Gatorade at the red liquid inside. Shoulders hunched, gaze lowered, in the perfect picture of submission.

Tyler’s playing him like a violin, but Jamie loves this song.

He comes to a stop next to Tyler, his chest almost touching the shorter man’s arm. Quiet stretches onwards, until Tyler reaches forward, putting the bottle down on the counter.

“What if it was what it looked like?” he murmurs, voice soft and demurely uncertain.

Jamie inhales through his nose, holding the breath for a second to try and center himself. “Then I’d have to ask why.”

“Why not?” the smaller counters, laughing in a way that wasn’t humorous. “You’re smart, in a position of power, have financial security, and _damn_ fine. Why wouldn’t I want that?” He hasn’t lifted his head yet, and neither of them have stepped back from the other.

“Because you never said anything or showed anything earlier. This was the first time that you’ve done anything this public. Why wait?”

“I _waited_ because I wasn’t about to become the subject of a territory dispute while you were still living with your brother. Contrary to popular belief, I do have a sense of self preservation, and it includes not wanting to be fought over by two leshy.”

Jamie growls before he can stop himself, before reason can silence him. “He’d never look at you like that, I’d make sure of it.”

Tyler smirks, tilting his head to the side to catch Jamie’s gaze. “You would, huh? Make sure that he knows I’m yours?” He’s playing up the words, that yellow-green still coloring his hues. Jamie knows what’s happening, and he’s not quite sure how to navigate these waters. Especially since everything he’s saying is what he _wants_ to hear. Every promise hits all of his needs, his wants, his desires.

It’s what Tyler’s meant to do.

“ _Tyler_.” His voice breaks on the word, slipping down to a growl without his permission. “You need to stop.”

Abruptly the smugness slides away, anger taking its place. “Why the fuck should I? You want it, I know you do.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. It’s not…I don’t do casual. And if that’s all this is to you, just another notch in your bedpost, I don’t want to be a part of that.”

Tyler turns on him then, facing him fully for the first time in this exchange. “You think I would risk getting my ass handed to me on TV, risk the entirety of the season _and_ my future in the NHL, just so I could hookup with you _once?_ Just because I’m weaker than you doesn’t make me stupid. I knew what I was doing, Jamie. Give me credit where credit is due.” His lip curls slightly, exposing teeth too sharp to be that of a human.

Defiance.

Jamie pushes him against the counter, bracketing him in with his own body. His own change takes over, and he’s left staring Tyler down with eyeless sockets. He stands a good seven feet tall like this, not counting the antlers. His ribcage expands and shrinks as he snorts moist air into Tyler’s face.

The smaller demon bares his own fangs in an alarmed hiss, leaning back and exposing his throat. His hands are pinned to the counter via Jamie’s talons, not piercing the skin, but pinning the appendages there before he could move them to defend himself.

_You know what I meant. The glamour, Tyler. I don’t do “casual” because we mate for life. You_ must _know this._

Jamie’s jaws do not move, but his voice sounds in Tyler’s own mind. There’s a shiver of surprise, but Tyler steels himself, looking up at Jamie with warm spring eyes. “I know.” His voice is steady, despite the miniscule tremors.

Jamie leans forward, his nasal ridge gently brushing against the offered skin of Tyler’s throat. _So when you say shit like that and act like that, what do you expect me to do?_

Tyler lets out a breathy groan and trembles again, but Jamie knows this one isn’t from fear. “To take what’s already yours.”

_Are you sure you want that?_ Jamie doesn’t pause in his exploration of Tyler’s skin, now trailing up to nose at his jawline. When Tyler whimpers, but doesn’t answer, Jamie picks his head up and stares down at Tyler once more. _Answer me, Tyler._

The center opens his eyes, meeting the gaze of those hollowed sockets. He bites his lower lip, fangs pinching at the flesh, little beads of blood welling up in places where he bit too hard. He rolls his hips up, and though Jamie doesn’t have much for him to find release from in this form, his femur does the job. “ _Yes._ ”

Jamie has to will himself back to his human form, following the logic that he gets to claim what’s been promised to him if he does. Once he’s standing before Tyler, bare chested and more than a little disheveled, they both go for the other, kissing in a way that’s more teeth than lips, aggressive and desperate. And then Tyler yields, his teeth blunting and returning to a more human shape. He moans, his mouth open and warm against Jamie’s, and Jamie presses against him, tongue licking out the last traces of fruit punch and blood.

They stand like this, locked together, for a few more minutes. At some point, Tyler freed his hands from beneath Jamie’s grasp and slid his palms down his captain’s sides. The warm touch shifts to possessive, and Jamie returns the favor, biting down on an already bloodied lip with a groan.

When he pulls back, lips wet and pupils wide, he takes Tyler’s jaw in one hand. “Now?”

Tyler nuzzles into the touch, his facial hair soft against Jamie’s palm. He looks up through his lashes as he nods, playing up the stereotype to what he thinks Jamie wants.

That look goes straight to Jamie’s dick.

He backs up, hauling Tyler along with him by his jaw for a few steps, before letting go and pushing the smaller ahead of him. Tyler knows what’s being asked of him, and so he doesn’t waste any time heading for the stairs, shedding his shirt as he goes. Jamie takes the steps two at a time as he follows, and he pins Tyler against the wall outside his bedroom for a few seconds of hurried, frenzied kisses.

Tyler rolls his hips up, gasping in relief as this time he finds something more substantial to rut against. Jamie lets him have a few moments of fun, just until he decides that he needs more. He pulls back, grabbing Tyler by the hand and pulling him into his bedroom, closing the door behind them.

It’s not so much like someone’s going to walk in on them, so much as it is a need to have Tyler to himself. Having the door closed is an extra boundary between them and the real world, even if it doesn’t make much of a difference, logically speaking.

He pushes the smaller of the two on the unmade bed, still mussed from his afternoon nap before the game. A part of him is pleased to see Tyler in this state of arousal in a place that is most obviously _his._ And Tyler, for his part, seems to agree.

“Fuck, Jamie…” he moans, half out loud and half into the pillow. Jamie watches as Tyler lifts his hips, undoing his belt and pushing his pants down to his thighs, revealing that he never actually put any underwear on after the game. Now, Jamie needs to be involved. Left pretty much naked by the change – thus destroying yet another suit, oh well – he doesn’t have much he needs to attend to.

Yanking Tyler’s pants off the rest of the way, he climbs up on the bed and lays over Tyler, using his full weight to press him into the mattress as they kissed. Tyler, whimpering and needy, puts his feet on the bed so Jamie is lying between his thighs. The friction is too good to bear, and they both moan at the sensation.

“Please, fuck, Jamie, _please,_ ” Tyler whines against his mouth. Jamie kisses and bites down Tyler’s neck, gently shushing him between bites.

“I’ve got you, I got you,” he murmurs against his lover’s heated skin. The rumors of what it’s like to sleep with a demon like Tyler float through his head, and he rolls his hips down purposefully, the dry friction just shy of painful. Pre-cum drips between them, smearing with each movement of their hips.

Jamie works his way down Tyler’s body, tongue flicking over his nipples as he descends. He scrapes his teeth against Tyler’s skin, leaving reddened streaks down his tattooed skin. “So fucking beautiful,” he mutters, the words pulled from him without any conscious thought. “All mine, all mine.”

Tyler stretches his hands over his head, drawing his skin taut over his muscles, showing off his body and encouraging Jamie to bite and grope to his heart’s content. But his teasing nature is not so easily defeated.

“I’m not yours until you seal the deal, _Captain._ ”

Jamie bites the inside of Tyler’s left thigh, sucking a bruise into the skin, in response to the little remark. He smells so sweet, unnaturally so, and Jamie’s mind is a little bit foggy. He thinks if he looks up now, he’ll see those yellow-green eyes yet again. Now, however, he doesn’t mind the glamour so much. But he is wondering what the rumors actually got right about these.

Tyler moans at the bite, reaching a hand down and threading it into Jamie’s hair. He doesn’t pull, for which Jamie is thankful for, but he does lean in and give Tyler a bit more direct stimulation. With his thumb pressing at Tyler’s perineum, he licks a stripe up the underside of his cock, sucking at the head, just to get a reaction. Tyler’s hips jump up, and Jamie luckily pulls back before he accidentally bites Tyler’s junk.

“Can’t even control yourself here, huh?” he quips, looking up at Tyler as he lowers his head to lick at the sides of his length, teasing with little grazes of his teeth every now and again.

“N-not fucking fair when you’re doing that…with your damn teeth,” Tyler grits out, trying and failing to keep his hips still.

“I do have to ask, though,” Jamie continues, sliding his hands up to grip Tyler’s hips and keep them still, the center’s legs resting over his shoulders. “The rumors about you, that you can satisfy every need…is that true?”

“Depends what the need is,” Tyler quips back, looking down at Jamie with a raised brow. Somehow, even with a flushed face, he’s able to maintain his little shit personality. _What a catch._

Jamie doesn’t answer, instead just slides his left hand down to thumb at Tyler’s hole, gently circling there. Exploring for himself turns out to be worthwhile, as he feels smooth slickness almost like that of a woman. “So it is true.”

A little whine is all he gets for his trouble, and he smirks as he gently bites at Tyler’s ass. The demon whimpers, wiggling a bit in response. Deciding to be kind, Jamie slips his thumb in, only to the first knuckle. Tyler’s tight, but not so much that he seems to be in pain from the intrusion.

Jamie works his thumb around a bit, pressing at the edge of the ring of muscle, gently coaxing Tyler’s body to accept him. After a few moments of this, he replaces that with his middle finger, aiming for depth more than thickness. He brushes a spot that makes Tyler tighten down even _more_ around his digit, and his dick twitches at the feeling. Slowly, he works his finger in and out, gradually increasing the speed until he adds a second finger. Scissoring Tyler open proves to make the little demon tremble a bit, and Jamie leans down to resume licking and sucking at his length.

“ _Fuck!_ Jamie!” Tyler cries out, fingers still threaded in Jamie’s hair. He yanks a little bit now, and Jamie crooks his fingers sharply in response, and Tyler’s gone, cumming down Jamie’s throat.

The leshy drinks it all down, noting the sweet, almost addictive flavor of Tyler’s load. It’s definitely not human, definitely engineered for sex as a whole. He continues to suck at the twitching member until he’s pulled off by an oversensitive Tyler. Withdrawing his fingers, Jamie crawls up Tyler’s body and kisses him, feeding him the taste of himself. He’s still hard, and he knows Tyler can feel it against his thigh, and he rolls his hips with a purpose.

“Fuck me, please Jamie, fuck me.” The words are pressed against his lips, Tyler already wrapping his legs around Jamie’s waist. “Don’t need anything else, just need you, please, please, _please…_ ”

“You beg so fucking sweet,” he groans, reaching between them and making sure Tyler’s actually opened enough. Once he’s satisfied, he grabs his own length, sliding into Tyler slowly, steadily, until he’s bottomed out.

The feeling is exquisite, and he holds himself over Tyler, almost shaking at the sheer _rightness_ of it all. He feels Tyler tightening down around him on purpose, his legs still secure around his waist. Hands run down his body, and he distantly hears Tyler’s voice, mumbling things in English, and things that are decidedly not. It feels like he can hang in this limbo forever, this moment of initial connection, but then he opens his eyes and looks down, and sees Tyler looking up at him, eyes almost purely yellow now, wide as he begs and pleads for satisfaction: for his _mate_ to satisfy him.

Who is Jamie to deny him?

He pulls back before bucking his hips forward again, hips connecting with Tyler’s with a smack. Jamie alternates between long, deep rolls, and shorter, faster thrusts, changing the rhythm every time Tyler seems like he’s getting too close. He wants to draw it out, to show Tyler that listening to him is what’s for the best. Wants to let him know that even though he might command a room’s attention whenever they’re out, he’s always going to listen to Jamie. That Jamie will have him and protect him and that he is never, _ever,_ to put himself at risk again for Jamie’s benefit.

“Yes, yes I’ll listen, yes, just, keep…right there, _please,_ ” he whines, nails dragging down Jamie’s back.

Apparently he’d been saying those thoughts aloud. At least now he knew Tyler knows what’s for the best.

The smaller of the two scrabbles for purchase against Jamie’s back, trying to pull himself up or Jamie down, craving more contact. Jamie gives in, laying over Tyler and pinning him with his weight to the mattress. This way, he gets deep with every thrust, and Tyler’s whimpering so sweetly in his ear.

“Wanna…wanna cum,” he whispers, barely able to articulate what he needs. “Please, Jamie, lemme…lemme cum, I’ll be so good.”

“Be mine? Be my mate?” he growls in return, and Tyler nods, squeezing his whole body around Jamie’s in one heated affirmative.

“Yes, yes be yours, fought for you didn’t I? Fought to get you and it worked, so I’ll always be yours, so lemme cum, please, Jamie, fu-ck…”

Jamie can feel Tyler’s dick trapped between the two of them, once again full and ready to cum. The larger of the two doesn’t answer, just secures his teeth at the side of Tyler’s neck, biting and sucking as he selfishly seeks his own orgasm. It doesn’t take him that long to cum deep inside his mate, holding his hips flush against him, making sure his cum stays where he puts it.

Tyler whimpers when he feels Jamie’s seed within him, little gasping whimpers of pleasure and contentment already fogging his mind over. When Jamie takes him in hand, it only takes a few strokes to get him to spill his load over Jamie’s fingers, his mouth open in a wordless cry.

About a minute passes, before Jamie pulls back, licking his lips and looking down at his newly claimed mate. He reaches up with his clean hand, cupping Tyler’s cheek, while offering him the dirty one against his lips.

Obediently, Tyler licks at Jamie’s fingers, sucking his own mess off the offered digits, purring all the while. Teasingly, he wiggles his hips slowly, and Jamie tiredly smirks down at him. “Not so soon, give me time to recover.”

The smaller simply nods, but whines when Jamie pulls out. A kiss shushes him, as Jamie leaves to get things to clean them up. Neither are up to a shower just right now, so wipes will have to do.

When he climbs back into bed, Tyler immediately climbs into his arms, curling up against him and nuzzling close. Jamie runs a hand down Tyler’s back, tracing the curve of his spine as he waits for words to come back to the more verbose of the two.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“So that was fucking great.”

Jamie hums, kissing the top of Tyler’s head. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I’m glad we got to do that,” Tyler presses, running his fingers back and forth over Jamie’s sternum. “I’m glad it worked, too.”

“You’re not going to do that again,” Jamie growls, tugging Tyler close. This time, it’s Tyler who shushes Jamie, pressing a gentle and tired kiss to his lips.

“Of course not. I got what I wanted anyway,” he coos, snuggling up closer. “Now, shut up. I’m tired and want to sleep.”

Jamie doesn’t push it. They both need sleep anyway.

* * *

And so, Tyler fit himself into Jamie’s life. Jamie was one of those who sought to burn out his frustration and exhaustion on the ice in fights and off the ice in fighting with his brother. Tyler was one of those who sought to burn out his anger on the ice with speed and off the ice in the gym.

But together, they could tire each other out in the best of ways. It mellowed them both out, eventually. At first, Jamie was even more quiet than usual, which normally registered as shy. Instead, he seemed to be angrier than anyone had seen him, quick to jump at people who seemed to spend too long around Tyler.

It took Jordie calling him on his shit for him to stop, and even that was a stretch. The younger Benn had stared his brother down, which prompted Tyler to elbow him and hiss something under his breath. Devin had watched from his own stall, shirt paused around his shoulders, before Sharpy gave him a look essentially saying to stay out of it.

For his part, Eaves was content to remain a floating shirt in the corner, observing behind the safety of invisibility.

The moment stretched on until Jordie said, “Well, we all knew he belonged to you. Not gonna challenge you for that right.”

The bearded Benn then pulled his own shirt over his head, redressing after practice, and the staring contest had ceased.

(Tyler still reaped the rewards from that, though. He’d felt it for _days_ afterwards.)

After that, the mellow and shy captain returned to normal, as if his brother was the one thing standing between him and normalcy. Media scrums returned to shy, drawn out sentences, while Tyler dazzled the room with his personality and looks. All was as back to normal.

**Author's Note:**

> this writing is fairly old, so apologies if it's not like my current stuff, haha. still, hmu on [tumblr](https://matskreider.tumblr.com/) with any questions you may have **_!!_**


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